


Thought You Might

by Morgana



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-05
Updated: 2014-01-05
Packaged: 2018-01-07 16:11:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1121885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morgana/pseuds/Morgana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A little exploration and a few adventurous photos make big trouble when they end up in the wrong hands</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thought You Might

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BewareTheIdes15](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BewareTheIdes15/gifts).



He was going to do this. He was really going to do it. Stiles looked at himself in the mirror, scarcely recognizing his own face, flushed with excitement, eyes wide and nervous just at the thought of what was about to happen. He licked his lips and reached for his belt, trying to keep his breathing steady and even. A panic attack right now would not be a good thing.  
  
It was all Scott’s fault, really. He’d been the one to mention it, had apparently done it a few weeks ago, and Allison had actually liked it. And okay, so Stiles didn’t have anybody but his own right hand to appreciate it, but he had to admit that it was still hot. Maybe because, even if this wasn’t for anybody but him, there was still that chance that someone else might see.  
  
He looked down, watching in the mirror as he unbuttoned his jeans and drew the zipper down, already half-hard just from the anticipation. Loose jeans were usually his friends, but now he wished he wore them a little tighter so he could see them tent, and he told himself he’d have to do this later, in a different pair. Not that he had any really tight jeans - nothing like Derek wore. He could just imagine what it would look like if Derek got hard. Fuck, that was hot, too.  
  
Stiles shoved his jeans down to his knees, then stared at himself in the mirror. That was even better, because now he could see a real bulge forming. He reached down to squeeze himself through his underwear, groaning softly at how good the cotton felt. For a minute, he fondled his dick, watching his hand in the mirror, trying to pretend it was someone else’s, but he was just too familiar with the sight of his own long fingers for that to work. Maybe if he pretended he was touching someone else’s dick, though...   
  
Oh, yeah. That was it. He imagined reaching out to rub someone’s dick like this, feeling them harden and start to get damp under his palm, and if that someone was growling while they moaned, then that was Stiles’ business. This was about getting into it, and he wasn’t going to apologize for his fantasies. It was tempting to say fuck it to everything and just jerk off, but he could do that later. Right now, he had something else to do, and he wanted it to be perfect. He squeezed again, gasping when he felt a spurt of precome wet the fabric under his fingers.  
  
Fuck, okay, had to do this. One more rub and he pried his fingers off his dick, then reached for his phone with an unsteady hand. He licked his lips, pressed the button to bring the camera up, and aimed it at the mirror. It took a minute for his hand (and the camera along with it) to stop shaking, but Stiles waited it out, and it was worth it, because when everything settled, he saw himself like he never had before.  
  
He was hard, his dick a visible ridge pressing against his cotton boxer briefs, the light blue a deeper color at the tip, where a wet circle pressed against the tip. It was hot - fuck,  _he_  was hot! Stiles took several shots before he could get too lost in it, then set the camera down and hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his underwear, dragging them down slowly. His dick slapped against his stomach as it was freed, precome smearing wet against his skin, but Stiles barely noticed that, too busy staring in the mirror, drinking it all in.  
  
If he’d thought he was hard before, that was nothing compared to what it was like when he pushed the underwear down to join the jeans and wrapped his hand around himself. Watching in the mirror seemed to intensify everything, making him really notice how hot his skin was, how much precome was leaking out, bubbling up and shining as it was smeared into his skin when he gave himself a slow stroke. His hand moved down to cup his balls, rolling them as he stared at how tight and full they looked.  
  
Again he had to force himself to stop before he could just end up jerking off. He could do that later, once he’d gotten his pictures. It was easier to pick up the phone this time, steadier as he focused on the sight of his dick straining out in front like it was eager for its closeup. Stiles took several shots, both of his dick and his hand wrapped around it, then set the phone down. He had his pictures, and now he could finish himself off at last.  
  
He didn’t hurry it, though. This was turning out to be too fucking hot to rush. Instead, he kept it slow, rubbing his palm over the wet tip of his dick, working himself with long, lingering strokes, watching every move in the mirror. This was better than porn, better than just getting off. He was putting on a show, and he loved it, even if it was just for himself. This was why people did porn and took dirty pics, the heat that came with showing off. Stiles tightened his grip and watched his dick jerk in his fist, precome spurting just a little. Fuck, that was hot. He wondered what it was going to look like when he came, and he told himself next time... next time he might have to set up his webcam and get it on video.  
  
Stiles moaned as he thought about that, getting to watch himself get off. He let his imagination run wild, imagining putting on a show for someone online, one of those anonymous websites, maybe, fucking his fist - or even fucking himself, letting someone else watch, knowing they were getting off on it. He knew Derek had a computer, had seen it on his coffee table... did he ever go to sites like that? Would he click on the link and watch Stiles fuck himself, maybe get hard in those tight jeans and have to jerk off while he watched? Would he want it to be his dick ramming into him while Stiles screamed for more and -  
  
“Oh, shit,” he gasped, watching his dick jerk right before he started to come. And Jesus, he was shooting like the porn guys, come spurting out to hit the fucking mirror, a visible arc that spattered against the mirror like rain on a window. He could almost imagine it shooting out on someone’s face, clinging to stubble that he could lick clean... “Fuck,” Stiles groaned, stroking himself through it, milking it all out until he had to put a hand out to steady himself against the door. “Jesus...”  
  
He squeezed out the last bit of his come, then straightened up and reached for his phone, hurrying to get the picture before it was gone. A few clicks and there were shots of come on the mirror, clinging to his fingers and running down the side of his dick added to his new secret gallery. And okay, now Stiles could see why Scott had done it - and why Allison had loved it. He was already looking forward to going through the pictures again, and maybe adding to them.  
  
But there was no time for that now. A glance at the clock showed that he was running late and he couldn’t afford to get detention today. There was going to be a scrimmage after school, which meant he’d actually get to play, and he didn’t want to miss his chance. And with Chemistry as his first class of the day, there was absolutely no chance of not getting detention if he was late. Mr Harris lived to hand out detention, and when it was Stiles or Scott on the receiving end, he was positively gleeful about it. Stiles hurried to wipe off the mirror, skipped a shower in favor of a quick clean up with a washrag, and told himself that the next time he did this, it was definitely going to be at night, so he didn’t have to go to school with the smell of come on his skin, his legs still wobbly from his orgasm.   
  
There was just barely time to grab some Pop Tarts from the kitchen for breakfast and text Derek before he ran out the door. The drive to school usually took fifteen minutes, but a glance at the clock spurred him on and he made it in seven minutes, sliding into his seat in Chem just ahead of the bell. And maybe Mr Harris was on to something, because Stiles took his own diabolical glee at the disappointment he could swear he saw in his teacher’s face.  
  
Today was off to a great start. Now he just had to hope it stayed that way.


End file.
